In the dark stillness of the night
A raven gloats
His speckled view like shattered glass
He beckons on tree limb
While others follow
Balancing on throaty groans
Protecting the midnight territory
He flies off to an empty windowsill,
Curtains flutter with the wind’s rhythm
And behind, a baby sleeps
Sheets rise and fall with breath
And our black bird watches while
The infant begins to shutter
His body relaxes
His breath slows
While a peaceful grin develops on his face
So young, the raven thought,
But this is what he was brought here to do
And the raven flies off as the breathing ceases.

05/02/2009

Author's Note: SBS - Shaken Baby Syndrome. I was moved when thinking of the fragility of a child and decided to paint a more peaceful picture of such abuse.

Posted on 05/02/2009
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